


Better Than

by marguerite_26



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Het Relationship, Dildos, F/M, First Time, Het and Slash, M/M, Male Slash, Multi, Pegging, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marguerite_26/pseuds/marguerite_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny offers Harry something a little different for their anniversary</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Better Than Goats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Faith Wood (faithwood)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithwood/gifts).



> This is a series of three separate fics, started back in 2010.
> 
> Please note that Harry truly loves Ginny in this and they are happily married – don't expect anything different.
> 
> Thank you to my betas [](http://faithwood.livejournal.com/profile)[**faithwood**](http://faithwood.livejournal.com/) and [](http://vaysh11.livejournal.com/profile)[**vaysh11**](http://vaysh11.livejournal.com/)

"Nine-forty-seven," Harry read out the gold embossed numbers on the door, with an implied _finally_ , then spun around and pinned Ginny against the wood. He bent to kiss her shoulder, her neck, her collarbone. She had a gorgeous collarbone, delicate shoulders and neck. He'd been staring at her all through dinner. She'd worn a strapless dress on purpose, just to make the meal torture, knowing he had four courses to endure before he could slip it off her. Harry gave a tiny lick to the freckle that sat in the concave of her throat before Ginny pushed him back.

"Harry."

He took a step back at the gravity of her tone.

"I need you to promise me that - if this isn't what you want - we just walk back out and never talk about this again. Ever. Okay?"

"Gin."

"Promise me, Harry. God, I can't believe I'm doing this." Ginny wrapped her shawl tight around her bare shoulders and stared at the hotel room doorknob like it was a N.E.W.T. level Arithmancy problem. "I'm an idiot. We should go."

"Gin, I promise." Harry leaned forward, held her arms tight and kissed her. She tasted of the port they'd sipped after dinner, both anxiously waiting for their bill so they could make their way to their suite. He was already half-hard from the snog in the elevator and pondered how much of a show the security cameras might have caught. "I think it's great that you did this, whatever this is."

Ginny fumbled with the Muggle hotel cardkey. For the last three years, they'd escaped to the Muggle world to celebrate their anniversary yet opening the bloody hotel room door never got any easier. "No need to feel bad or think you owe me anything – just say 'no' and we leave. And never talk about it again. Ever."

Harry laughed. If Ginny was reduced to repeating herself, it must be more adventurous than the sparkly dildo they tried out last year. "There aren't any goats in there, are there?"

"Harry!"

Harry ducked the swat aimed for his shoulder and grabbed Ginny around the waist, half-carrying her into the suite. They stumbled forwards in a mix of laughter and kisses and nervous energy. Harry's hand fell to the zipper of her satin dress and started to tug, but something in the corner of his eye made him freeze. They were not alone.

 _Draco Malfoy_ sat on the large bed across the room, his back against the high headboard and his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. The lamp on the bedside table lit a line of tiny bottles of Scotch.

"What the –?"

"Hello, Potter." Malfoy raised his glass to Harry and toasted him with a smirk that set Harry's teeth on edge.

He didn't know how long he'd stood, speechless, but when he looked down, Ginny was tugging at his arm, saying, "Yes or no, Harry?"

"What is Draco Malfoy doing in our hotel room?"

"Harry, you promised."

"What?" Harry glanced over to the bed, unable to process anything more than that Malfoy was barefoot and how such a simple thing could make someone look so vulnerable.

"Yes or no? We can walk out right now and just… God, forget this whole thing."

Harry snapped his jaw shut and looked back and forth between Ginny and Malfoy. Suddenly Ginny's nervousness throughout dinner became clear. The way she gnawed her thumbnail and cursed that she'd ruined the manicure. "You mean this is your _surprise_?"

A smile spread across Malfoy's face, slow and seemingly pleased with the panic that had taken residence in Harry's gut. Ginny's neck was blotchy; her pale skin and strapless dress showed it off in a way that Harry knew she'd hate.

"I'm so stupid." She spoke to the carpet, shaking her head. "I thought… never mind, Harry. Let's go."

Harry grabbed her around the waist as she moved towards the door. "Hey." He pressed a finger to her chin until their eyes met and he saw for the first time how mortified she was.

"You promised." Her lips pressed tight, her eyes darting towards the door.

Harry loved Ginny's strength. Her brash, confident aura that made heads turn when she walked into the room. But even more, Harry cherished every rare opportunity of seeing her vulnerable. She'd put herself out there tonight. She'd had to have planned this for weeks: the reservation, the new clothes, the hotel room, the _guest_.

Harry's eyes flickered to Malfoy who sat silent, nursing his drink, feigning indifference, but the deep red blush that crept up his starched collar said otherwise. Harry turned back to Ginny, whispering low, though Malfoy could likely hear well enough, "I just… don't _understand_." They had talked – joked, Harry had thought – about fantasies and kinks. But this was a bigger step than Harry had ever expected.

Ginny's face immediately closed off. "It was stupid. I swear next year, I'll get you a new broom or something."

Malfoy coughed on his Scotch and Ginny shot him a look. He shrugged and wiped his palms on his trousers.

Harry turned back in time to catch Ginny mouth, 'Sorry' in Malfoy's direction. So she'd _persuaded_ Malfoy to come up here. Of course she had, Harry realised. She chose him, invited him, convinced him she was serious. Harry could only imagine how incredulous it must have sounded to Malfoy at first. She did that because she thought Harry wanted this. And maybe – likely – because she wanted it, too.

Harry released his hold of Ginny and, with a step backwards, ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm not saying no, all right? But at the risk of sounding like a complete git: what exactly do you have in mind here?" Harry's brow furrowed as unwanted images swam in front of him: dirty, naughty stuff that are saved for the end of porn films.

Ginny looked up at him with a small smile, like he'd just offered her the last slice of treacle tart. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and moved closer to the bed. Harry followed the movement with his eyes. He could see Malfoy over her left shoulder.

"What I told Draco" – Ginny stumbled over his given name – "was that it was all up to you. Honestly, Harry, I just thought you might… you said you were curious. But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. So just say no and I swear it's completely fine."

The clock on the fireplace mantel tick-tocked away the seconds, minutes, hours he took to decide what to say next. Her wide eyes stared at him, open and bare, and he found himself saying, "I'm willing to try." He _was_ curious, though entirely unprepared for _this_. For _Malfoy_.

Ginny beamed and hugged him, pulling him into a kiss. The feel of his wife's lips, the slide of tongue on tongue, slow and passionate, was so familiar and _right_ that Harry lost himself for a moment. The longing that had faded during the last few minutes came back to him full force. His hand slid down the slippery satin of Ginny's dress; he cupped her arse with both hands and pulled her flush against him. She gasped and nipped at his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

The mattress squeaked and Harry's eyes snapped open to meet Malfoy's. He'd forgotten that they weren't alone. Malfoy's glass of Scotch was on the bedside table now. One hand rested high on his thigh, and the other clenched the sheets.

Malfoy was watching, just waiting and watching Harry grind himself against his beautiful wife, listening to them pant and moan against each other. Harry gripped Ginny tighter and rolled his hips. She groaned and arched into him. Malfoy swallowed and a bead of sweat dripped down his temple. He never broke eye contact with Harry.

A burning, rolling pull started low in Harry's gut. For the first time that night, he understood. He was reminded of the time Ginny made his favourite curry with twice the heat – he'd gasped at first, unsure if he could eat something so hot but the difference was unexpectedly heady. That seemed like a ridiculous comparison, far too simple. This was truly playing with fire.

"Gin," Harry whispered. "Do you really trust Malfoy? I don't want this to end up in the _Prophet._ "

Ginny turned around in Harry's arms, facing the bed and Malfoy. "We signed a magical contract." Malfoy nodded. "It was a standard non-disclosure parchment that outlined our agreement to never speak of this to anyone or share our memories outside of the participants. He can't, Harry. Ever."

"You should give your wife more credit, Potter." Malfoy smirked at Harry then gave Ginny a wink.

"And what do you get out of this? Just like to watch?"

Malfoy reached for his tumbler but his hands shook and he placed them back on the bed. "If that's all I'm offered, then that's what I'm here for."

His lips quirked, the tiniest little down turn that Harry couldn't decipher – not while his mind was racing forward with Malfoy's words and what else besides watching could be on offer. "Oh."

Ginny turned back to him again. "Harry, no. Really." His panic must have been evident on his face because Ginny's hands gripped his suit jacket like he might bolt. "When I said he's here for whatever you and I are comfortable with, that's what I meant. If you just want him to watch, he'll just watch."

Ginny, sneaky vixen that she was, nuzzled Harry's neck and rocked against him. "You liked him watching a minute ago." She reached up and licked the sensitive skin just below his ear.

Harry's skin grew hot, the suit suddenly impossibly heavy and restricting. Malfoy's gaze burned him more than ever. "Yes."

Malfoy's legs fell open and Harry watched his hand move up his thigh until his thumb pressed against the bulge in his trousers. His eyes slid down Ginny's body and a slow smile spread across his face. Harry had run into Malfoy at enough Ministry functions to know that Malfoy was still the cocky arse he'd been in school, and there was something about the possibility of seeing him undone that sent a rush of adrenaline through Harry. Harry fumbled with his tie, scrambling for air. After he swore the third time, Ginny pulled it loose and began to unbutton his shirt.

Harry captured her lips again. "Thank you."

"No, thank you." Ginny whispered between kisses. "For trusting me."

Harry tugged at a lock of her hair. "I trust you implicitly."

"Do Gryffindors always talk this much during foreplay? It's a wonder that you are capable of breeding little lion hearts at this rate."

Harry barked a laugh. "All part of the show, Malfoy." Before he could think on it further, he pulled his wand from his jacket and spelled his suit off, and with another flick, Ginny to her bra and knickers. She yelped and, adrenaline pumping fast in his veins, he tossed her onto the bed, and then dove on top of her.

Ginny squealed and tried to push him off. "Harry James Potter, you know I hate when you do that!" she scolded but it was lost in her breathless laughter.

Harry pinned her wrists to the bed and attacked her neck, sucking and biting and delighting in every squirm she made beneath him. He adjusted his grip and felt the brush of wool against his knuckle rather than the soft cotton of the sheets. He looked up. Malfoy was so close; the bed seemed to have shrunk. Malfoy stared down at him, frozen, blinking as if he'd been Portkeyed into an alternate universe. Harry was sure he himself was wearing that same look.

Malfoy shook his head and his eyes lost their haze. "Nice spell work, Potter. I might have even been impressed if it had been wandless."

Harry grinned, feeling that slow warmth in his belly that Malfoy's taunts always gave him. He closed his eyes and focused. He opened them again to see a metal cuff appear on Malfoy's wrist. It began lifting, pulling Malfoy's arm steadily above his head. Malfoy gasped and tried to pull his arm back. His eyes flickered to his other wrist, where the matching cuff was rising to meet its twin. They latched together over his head and fixed themself to the headboard with a bang.

Malfoy tugged at the immovable bonds, craning his neck to see the cuffs. "Release me this instant, Potter."

Ginny laughed. "Harry does know _some_ wandless magic. But only the really useful stuff."

Harry pressed his forehead to her chest and chuckled, loving the vibrations of her laughter against him.

"It's not funny! My arm is cramping."

Harry should have expected Malfoy to turn into a whiny twelve year-old.

Ginny pushed at his shoulders. "You'd better let him out."

"I was just having a little fun."

She kissed his protruding bottom lip and gave him another shove. With a sigh he sat up, grateful that he'd kept his boxers on after the Stripping Spell. He knelt beside Malfoy and leaned across him to reach the cuffs.

"Perhaps a little less commentary about my skills in the bedroom?" He hadn't actually meant to whisper in Malfoy's ear. The scent of Malfoy's cologne and their proximity somehow forced his voice low and breathy. His lips grazed the fine hair that fell on the top of Malfoy's ear. He felt Malfoy shudder and realised how far he was leaning over Malfoy. The stiff cotton of Malfoy's shirt brushed against his nipples and they tightened to sharp peaks in response. "Sorry. The binding releases to my magical signature. I just need to touch – Ginny!"

Harry's hands fell to the headboard on either side of Malfoy. His eyes flew down to his tented boxers and Ginny, lying across the pillows and squeezed in between his thighs and headboard was pressing open-mouthed, wet kisses up and down the outline of his erection. He shut his eyes and took a moment to gather his control. "Ginny. God! I'm just trying to get this – _ugh_ – undone. And we can –" His head fell forward as her hands found his balls and began to roll them in her tight palm, just the way he liked it.

Malfoy's face was only a hair's breadth from his own. It felt odd, being so turned on – weak-kneed and trembling – with a man's face, Malfoy's face, within kissing distance. Well, maybe not odd, but different. Harry licked his lips. Malfoy followed the movement of his tongue and looked back at him, eyes half-lidded, dilated to only a thin ring of grey. He leaned forward a fraction, barely an invitation.

Whatever argument he might have had in another situation was far from Harry's ability at the moment. With Ginny's hot mouth on his cock and this opportunity staring him in the face, it was impossible not to give into the temptation. He closed the distance and pressed a soft kiss to Malfoy's lips and pulled back.

When he'd thought of what kissing a man would be like, when he'd confessed it to Ginny or fantasised it by himself, this was not what he'd imagined. Hard and rough, all teeth and tongue and spit, maybe. Something dirty. But despite the rather torrid setting, there was nothing dirty in that brush of lips. Harry's eyes traced Malfoy's face but other than a deep blush to his cheeks, Malfoy kept his reaction unreadable.

"Do it, again." Ginny's voice was hoarse, breathless.

Harry looked down, noticing for the first time that the attention to his cock had stopped. Ginny wriggled herself to kneeling, leaning back against the headboard, shoulder to shoulder with Malfoy. "If you want to," she qualified. "I'd love to see that again."

Malfoy looked between the two of them and shrugged – for all that he could shrug with his hands bound above his head. Harry reminded himself that he really should release him. "Do as the lady commands, Potter."

"All right." Harry's heart pounded. He wondered if he looked as nervous as he felt.

Knowing that Ginny was watching made it different. Not nearly as intimate as that first stolen kiss, but far more erotic. Harry lingered, letting his lips tickle against Malfoy's a moment before pressing more firmly. He dragged his bottom lip across Malfoy's, then gave a tiny lick to the edge of Malfoy's mouth and felt the scratch of stubble. He reminded himself to breathe. Malfoy's lips parted and he tasted the smoky tang of Scotch. The unfamiliar flavour tingled on his tongue as the kiss deepened. Their lips met again and again, in wet, slow smacks that sounded too loud in the quiet room. When he pulled away this time, Malfoy had his eyes shut.

"That was _brilliant_." Ginny pushed him backwards and moaned into a kiss. Her taste, her smell, her silky soft skin as he gripped her hips – so different than the kiss with Malfoy. Harry's head was spinning.

"Yeah." Harry knew he had a silly grin on his face but he couldn't seem to stop himself. "It was brilliant." Then it became perfectly clear to him what was going to happen next. "Your turn," Harry said, and before she could process his words, he lifted Ginny up and placed her on Malfoy's lap.

"Oh!" She squirmed in surprise and Malfoy groaned, his eyes flying open at the sudden sensation of a hot, nearly naked woman in his lap.

"Merlin, Potter, warn a bloke next time," he said.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "The lady likes what the lady likes." And his Ginny loved to be picked up and tossed onto a bed, or across his lap or – on one memorable occasion – over his shoulder and stolen from a rather boring Sunday meal at the Burrow. What she didn't like was being asked for permission beforehand. He knew her well enough to know that she'd speak her mind if there was something she wasn't enjoying.

And judging from the slight tremble to her breath, she was far from displeased.

He moved behind her, settling between Malfoy's knees and slid his hand along the curve of her hips, tracing the fringe of her lace knickers. Pressing his naked chest against her back, he whispered, "Kiss him." His chest burned at the words. They felt heavy in the air, like something that ought never to be spoken, and it made his cock ache. He gripped her hips possessively even as her urged her on with a gentle push of his thumb to her lower back.

Ginny leaned forward and Malfoy's eyes widened. He met her with a tentative brush of lips, but his eyes remained on Harry, as though the continuing existence of his balls was surely in question. When Harry nodded his approval, Malfoy's eyes fluttered shut and he seemed to melt into Ginny, the gentle pucker of plump, wet lips kissing over and over again, tugging at her bottom lip then moving to the top and down her jaw.

Harry's blood seemed to only run in one direction, straight to his cock. Lack of oxygen to the brain would certainly explain the dizzy euphoria at listening to Ginny moan at another man's touch. It really shouldn't be that hot. It should be infuriating, logic dictated. Ginny's lace-covered arse writhed above Malfoy's crotch and Harry knew – knew so well – how incredible she felt. Malfoy whimpered when Ginny rose to kneel, letting him slide kisses down her neck. Her hands trailed up his shirt-sleeves until they found his bound wrists. She entwined their fingers. Malfoy's eyes were closed, his cheeks pink. His nostrils flared as he marked her neck.

Harry was sure they would be viewing this memory again, he and Ginny watching and fucking to this incredibly sight. He squeezed the wool-covered thigh pressed against his leg. A rush of pleasure shot through him when Malfoy looked up and said, "Potter," in a helpless whisper. Harry couldn't resist doing it again, and Malfoy's leg jumped beneath his hands. It was exhilarating, breaking through Malfoy's defences, melting away whatever assumptions Malfoy might have had about Harry's sexuality. He slid his hand higher, easing his way up until he felt the crease at Malfoy's groin.

Malfoy's head hit the headboard with a _thunk_. Ginny tossed a questioning look over her shoulder. Harry grinned back with his most innocent look that she never believed anyway. With a chuckle, she lifted off Malfoy, and sat on her heels beside Harry.

"Are you two trying to kill me?" Malfoy groaned.

Harry's thumb rubbed slow circles into the bulge of Malfoy's sack. The soft wool caught on his dry hands.

"Merlin." Malfoy's pressed himself against Harry's touch.

"Now you’re just flattering me so that I get those trousers off you."

Malfoy eyes lit up. "Maybe."

"Stop teasing, Harry," Ginny laughed. "Some of us are waiting in the wings here."

"I think I've been outvoted." Harry traced the outline of Malfoy's erection, fascinated by the hardness beneath his fingers. Ginny was so soft.

Malfoy's hands were clenched, white-knuckled in the cuffs, but he stayed silent. Harry kept his eyes on Malfoy as he popped the button and slid down the zipper. Without preamble, Harry pulled at the pants and trousers, dragging them down until they slipped off Malfoy's bare feet. Then Harry froze beside the bed, unsure what to do next.

"Go ahead. If you've wondered." Ginny nodded down towards Malfoy's crotch. His cock stood proud, pink and long, in a thatch of dark blond curls.

He couldn't let the opportunity pass. It was something he'd assumed he would never know. The vision flashed in his mind: his lips stretched over Malfoy's cock – he could practically feel the weight of it on his tongue already. He moved back onto the bed and knelt between Malfoy's legs. Malfoy's thighs were hot under his palms, the fine hair tickling his fingertips.

"Oh!" Malfoy gasped as though he, too, hadn't thought through where this was heading.

Harry lowered his head, but faced with a cock, inches from his nose, his courage almost abandoned him. It felt right to start with a lick, slow and tentative from the based of the shaft to the crown. Malfoy groaned in approval and Harry beamed up at him, until the cock twitched, sprang back, and the wet tip smacked him in the chin.

Ginny and Malfoy's laughter echoed through the room.

"Hey now! I've never done this!" When their guffawing grew louder, Harry mumbled, "Gits," and began again, this time without reserve. His mouth closed around the head and explored the tip with his tongue, running over the slit the way he loved Ginny to. The room fell silent.

Harry smirked around the cock in his mouth and added a bit of suction until Malfoy keened and snapped his hips. Harry opened up and let Malfoy's cock slip further in, pulled back a bit then lowered his mouth again. It was brilliant, hard and smooth and, God, every sound, Malfoy was making – strangled moans and choked gasps – that was _him_ , driving Malfoy out of his mind. He wanted to grab his own aching cock, but one touch would probably do him in. He concentrated on Malfoy, testing how deep he could manage. The tip brushed the back of Harry's throat and his eyes watered.

"Potter!" Malfoy cried out and his entire body went taut.

Harry realised a second too late what that meant. He pulled back, Malfoy's dick slipping out of his mouth with a pop, and an instant later felt a wet, hot splash on his cheek. Malfoy's cock twitched, untouched. Harry watched the come drip Malfoy's cock onto his belly.

Malfoy's head fell forward; his arms hung limp from the cuffs. His white cotton shirt lay partially open, wrinkled with sweat, the tails framing his groin and softening cock. Harry's chest warmed with pride.

When Malfoy raised his head, Harry smirked and wiped Malfoy's come from his cheek with the palm of his hand. Malfoy's post-coital stupor flashed to hunger. He growled a _Relashio_ and the cuffs flew open. Before Harry could think of a snarky comment about wandless magic, Malfoy pounced.

The kiss was bruising and intense, nothing like the earlier ones. It felt like Malfoy needed to devour him, taste himself on Harry's mouth. Their bodies pressed together, Harry's cock trapped and screaming for attention beneath his pants – why hadn't he stripped yet? He needed so badly to feel Malfoy's scorching skin next to his. He fumbled for his waistband, their noses bumped in the confusion. His glasses knocked askew and finally, he manoeuvred his pants down his thighs.

His cock slapped against Malfoy's wet belly, he could feel the tickle of hair as the tip dragged along the path below Malfoy's navel. He rolled his hips and – God – he was not going to last. Malfoy had one hand clutched in Harry's hair, securing the never-ending kisses and another on Harry's right buttocks, holding their bodies close. He could barely move, but Harry thrust as best he could, again and again, losing himself in the friction – glorious friction.

Then Malfoy's hand slipped lower, and a finger circled Harry's entrance, teasing, promising. Harry shuddered, the orgasm tearing out of him. He clung to Malfoy, his grip on Malfoy's hips fierce and bruising.

The world slowly pieced itself back together as Harry blinked the hotel room into focus. Ginny sat not two feet away, eyes glazed, with her hand down her tiny knickers.

"And you call yourselves gentlemen, leaving a poor girl to take care of herself," Ginny teased, not sounding the least put out.

Malfoy froze in Harry's arms, as though he'd momentarily forgotten where he was. Harry pressed a gentle kiss to his temple and hoped it was understood. For a moment, Harry had forgotten, too.

"Let's go make it up to the _poor girl_ ," Harry whispered.

The tension beneath Harry's fingers dissipated and Malfoy nodded and pulled away to show a toothy grin. "Yes, let's."

Harry tackled Ginny to the bed, lying at her side, while Malfoy fumbled with the hotel tissue box to get cleaned up. When Malfoy joined them, he made quick work of slipping off Ginny's knickers.

Harry left Malfoy to it and concentrated on everything above Ginny's waist. He nipped and sucked her neck. His hand dipped into her bra and pinched her nipples. "I love you, you know," Harry breathed into a kiss.

Ginny moaned into his mouth in reply and Harry looked down to see Malfoy's head between her legs. His fingers twirled around her nipples again as he watched and kissed and said filthy things into Ginny's ear.

"He looks fantastic down there – blond hair mixing with your dark red thatch." He flicked his tongue at her earlobe. "Look at you pressing yourself into his mouth. Does he feel as good as he looks?"

"Yes." She pulled at his hair, demanding a kiss, sucking hard on Harry's bottom lip. She was so hot, her body on fire, her pupils blown wide. And that it was Malfoy making his wife feel that way was just too bloody fantastic and Harry couldn't possibly explain it if he tried.

"He'll think of this every time he passes you in the street." Harry tugged a nipple into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth. Malfoy looked up at him then, and Harry's breath caught at the flash of fire he saw there. Harry would remember it, too. Every moment of it. "He'll lick his lips and remember the taste of you."

Ginny was trembling. She had to be so close. Harry opened his mouth over hers and swallowed her cry as she came, writhing into Malfoy's face. Her hips lifted off the mattress, wanting everything he could give.

Harry held her for what seemed like ages, until their breathing calmed and their sweat cooled. He ran a hand through her hair and kissed the freckles on her nose.

Malfoy moved about the room, cleaning himself up and getting dressed. Harry didn't look, but knew he was making his getaway before the awkwardness returned. Harry let him. He didn't turn to see the regret, embarrassment, or worse – the cold blank mask that might be back on Malfoy's face. It was easier not to know, and just hope Malfoy left sated and with a few fond memories.

When the hotel room door clicked shut, Ginny looked up at him. "You okay?"

Harry nodded and kissed the love bite Malfoy had left on her neck. "Happy anniversary."

Ginny snickered. "Better than goats?"

The adrenaline of the evening ripped Harry's laughter out of him. "Definitely."

"Try it again sometime?"

"Absolutely." Harry's mind drifted to Malfoy's finger circling his hole, teasing, promising more. He squirmed closer to Ginny, rubbing his hardening cock against her thigh. "Sometime."

~fin~  



	2. Better Than Goats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Harry and Ginny were together, Malfoy couldn’t seem to stop staring.

Ginny swayed into the dance and pressed her cheek to Harry’s. Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered, “He looks good tonight, doesn’t he?”

He shivered, stuttering through the waltz. He pulled back enough to see the wicked glint in her eye. His cheeks heated, knowing that look all too well. It was usually followed by Harry having to manoeuvre about trying to discreetly hide his erection. She stared over his shoulder and winked. “Ginny.” He spoke through his teeth. “Someone will see.”

Ginny laughed, loud and throaty, exposing the long line of her neck. His gaze trailed along the expanse of pale skin and the jewelled neck, down to her cleavage. He indulged in the view a beat longer than was proper for the centre of the dance floor at the Ministry Christmas Gala.

She squeezed his shoulder. “Harry, you’re worse than I am. We’ll be thrown out of here if you keep that up.”

“Then you should have worn a different dress. It’s no wonder he’s staring at you; you must have used a sticking charm to keep that dress in place.” The truth was Malfoy always stared, whether out of curiosity, attraction or jealousy – his eyes seemed to naturally be drawn to one or the other of them. And when Harry and Ginny were together, Malfoy couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

Harry led them about the dance floor. He nodded to various greetings, barely registering any of the faces. When his eyes found the corner at which Ginny had been looking earlier, his fingers curled possessively over her hip. Malfoy did look good, well-tailored robe setting off this tall, thin frame and broad shoulders. When his eyes caught Harry’s, the pink that coloured his cheeks set a curl of desire swirling in Harry’s belly. He tugged Ginny closer.

“You’re hard as a rock, aren’t you?”

Harry groaned. The last time they bumped into Malfoy – a simple nod as they’d left a restaurant while he’d entered it – Harry and Ginny had hurried home, placed the Pensieve in the centre of their bed, and had woken the next morning tired, sore and smiling like newlyweds. “I assume that’s rhetorical.”

She shimmied against him, not at all in rhythm with the soft crooning of Silver Bells from the band on stage. They turned again and even without the intense look Ginny shot over his shoulder, Harry could feel Malfoy’s eyes on them.

“Do you feel him, Harry? His hot stare on us – your back, your arse, my lips. He can’t take his eyes off us. I bet he’s as hard as you are.” She lifted up and pressed her lips to his, slightly parted, soft and pliant. The slip of her tongue against his own sent a tingling through his body and he moaned into her mouth, deepening the kiss. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew they were pushing the line of decency, and his arousal was spiralling out of the reach of his control. Someone cleared his throat next him and for a split second he wondered if it was be Malfoy, asking to cut in.

He looked up to see Shacklebolt’s raised eyebrow and he pulled away from Ginny, physically shaking off the heat of the moment.

“We need to get out of here before we embarrass ourselves,” Harry whispered after Shacklebolt had moved on.  
Ginny’s neck was flushed, cleavage rosy and tempting as she looked about the room. “He’s gone.”

“Shit.” Harry hadn’t really thought through what would happen next but if he had, Malfoy leaving without a word would not have been his first choice. A cold splash of guilt cooled his arousal; Malfoy had misinterpreted their tease.

They hurried off the dance floor, ignoring the smirks and the ‘have a good night’s' shot their way. Stumbling into the cloak room, they stopped short. Malfoy stood before them, wrapping a grey scarf around his neck.

No one spoke for a moment.

“Potter.” Malfoy broke the silence, his voice strained. “I thought you’d have your wife spread out beneath the buffet table by now.”

Harry’s face flamed hot, but before he could reply Ginny shouldered past him and stood before Malfoy. Not answering with words, just stared like only Ginny could, saying a million naughty things with only a smirk and a head tilt.

It took a moment for Malfoy to move. There was that shimmer of uncertainty Harry remembered from that first time, then, with a flickered glance at Harry, he took one confident step forward, raised his hand to Ginny’s cheek and kissed her. His eyes were open, still on Harry’s until Harry nodded and Malfoy closed his eyes and tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Harry watched Ginny melt into the kiss, the surreal image of his wife in another man’s arm sent memories flooding back to him – Ginny's lace-covered arse writhing above Malfoy's crotch, his blond hair mixing with her dark red mound as he pressed his mouth to her. The erection that had begun to soften when they realised Malfoy had left the hall was back and pushing against his zip.

“Merlin,” Ginny moaned. A heady mixture of jealousy and lust surged through Harry.

“It’s just a headache, dear.” Distant voices filtered into the room. “I hope you don’t mind calling it an early night.”

Harry's eyes flew to the open door of the cloakroom, and back to Ginny and Malfoy – still oblivious, Malfoy’s hands cupping Ginny’s arse, pressing her close. The click of heels echoed through the hallway, louder with each step. He dove without a second thought, embracing them and focusing on his destination.

He blinked back the disorientation of leaving the bright heat of the fairy lights and landing in his and Ginny’s dark, quiet bedroom. Harry moved about the room lighting candles and setting a roaring fire in the hearth. He took a second to regret leaving both their cloaks behind – that would surely make the _Prophet_ , if nothing else did. When he turned, Malfoy’s fine outer robes lay in a pile on the floor, and Ginny was making quick work of his tie. It didn’t look like their lips had separated since they’d landed.

A spark of annoyance flared in his chest and he cleared his throat.

Malfoy jumped back, flushed and tussled, his lips red and shiny with Harry’s wife’s spit. “My apologies,” he muttered, wiping his mouth. He looked about the room for the first time, eyes widening as he realised where he was. His gaze fell to the far wall and the collection of frames – Harry and Ginny’s wedding, their honeymoon in Egypt, one Christmas hols they’d spent in the Swiss Alps – a dozen versions of them happy and smiling at various ages. Malfoy looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey.” Harry stood before him, caught his chin in his hand and raised it. “You’re welcome here.” With a shaky breath, he slowly leaned in. It had been months since the night of his and Ginny’s anniversary, and while Malfoy’s interest in Ginny wasn’t up for debate, Harry needed to know where he stood. He stopped and waited, just short of their mouths touching. Then, after a heartbeat, an eternity, Malfoy closed the distance, and trembling lips pressed to Harry’s. A whimper of pleasure slipped past his throat at the first tentative contact, barely a whisper of a kiss.

“Yeah?” He breathed the question into Malfoy’s mouth.

Malfoy twisted his fingers into the short curls at the back of Harry’s neck and whispered, “Yes.” He pulled Harry closer, licked his bottom lip and pressed in. Malfoy’s free hand clutched at his lower back, then slipped beneath Harry’s waistband, one finger teasing the top of Harry’s cleft.

He nipped at Malfoy’s neck, grazing his teeth along the clean-shaven jaw. The cologne was familiar, and the scent made Harry’s mind swim with memories, the weight of Malfoy’s cock in his mouth, the dirty pleasure of Malfoy’s finger at his entrance. “Do you want to fuck me, Malfoy?”

Malfoy’s breath hitched and Harry grinned.

“Would you like that?” he teased, rocking his hips, pressing his aching cock against Malfoy’s hip.

“On the bed, Potter.” Malfoy snapped, his voice rough, nearly cracking over the words.

Harry started to strip and Ginny’s hands quickly replaced his shaking fingers. She was biting her lip and not quite hiding her smirk. They’d played this bit before, her working the dildo inside of him while talking, constantly talking, about who Harry wanted and how hot and hard and perfect it would be if or when they had another _guest_ , both knowing exactly who they wanted to invite again. He kissed her nose for not saying a word at the moment.

Harry lay naked, spread out on the bed, while Ginny helped Malfoy tug off the last of his clothes. Harry palmed his dick while Ginny pulled Malfoy into another kiss. She was still dressed; one strap of her dress had fallen off her shoulder, the lace of her bra and one nipple visible in the dip of her neckline. Malfoy’s hand ran over the bare shoulder, grazed the exposed cleavage, teasing the dress lower without ever touching. Ginny muttered an incoherent complaint into the kiss and he leaned forward to scrape his teeth over the exposed nub. She whimpered her approval.

“My lady,” he whispered and grabbed her hand, kissed it and motioned for her to join Harry on the bed. She climbed over Harry and snuggled in at his side. Harry distracted himself for a moment, pulling her hair pins free and letting long wavy locks cascade onto his bare chest. He looked over his shoulder to see Malfoy watching them with that same intense stare they’d received for months.

Harry cleared his throat. “Top drawer,” he said, tilting his chin towards his bedside table.

Malfoy nodded and pulled open the drawer. His chuckle, dark and rich, filled the room. In his hand was the pink dildo from two anniversaries ago. It sparkled, catching the flicker of the candle light as he turned it in his hand.

Harry groaned and threw his arm over his eyes while Ginny's body shook in barely restrained giggles. “I hate you, Gin.”

She snorted, and breathless with laughter, she kissed him. “You love me.”

The bed dipped at his feet as Malfoy sat, “We won’t be needing that tonight, I suppose. But your sex life is certainly... colourful, Potter.”

Before Harry could respond, the cap of his tube of lubrication clicked open and the room quieted. Suddenly their combined breaths became the only sound. There was no preamble, no teasing left to be done, just the feel of a slick, blunt finger at his entrance. “Oh.” His heart pounded like he’d run a mile. This was actually happening.

“Just relax, Potter.” Malfoy circled the ring, over and over, slow and torturous.

The request was laughable. Harry tried to swallow past his sudden nerves, but his throat was tight. Last time it had been Malfoy coming undone in Harry’s hands, bound and, mostly, at Harry’s mercy. He hadn’t thought about how much he wanted this and how vulnerable that would make him feel. His cheeks burned at how close he was to begging and Malfoy didn’t even have a finger in yet. His legs trembled.

Malfoy sighed. “Ginny, do you think you could distract him?”

“How distracted would you like him?” She immediately set about slipping off her dress.

Malfoy’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “Please, be my guest. I’m sure he’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

Ginny winked at Harry, slipping off her knickers and straddling him. “All right.” She reached behind herself, lined up and began to sink down.

“Christ. Gin.” Harry’s breath caught in his throat at the unexpected sensation and his hips snapped up. She lowered herself slowly, rolling her hips back and forth as her body adjusted. She was warm and _tight_ and slick, so slick. He slid in so easily. His head fell back on the pillow and his eyes squeezed shut at the sensation of her around him. “God.”

“That was... very effective.” Malfoy exhaled a deep breath he must have been holding. “I think – I think a pillow would help in this scenario.”

Harry reached over for Ginny’s pillow and tossed it down the bed. At Malfoy’s tap to his thigh, he lifted up, thrusting further into Ginny. She squealed as she was flung forward, her hands clutching his shoulders for balance. “Hello, there,” Harry whispered as her nose brushed his, and he kissed her.

Pillow nestled under Harry’s arse, Malfoy’s finger began to circle again. Harry pushed back against it, urging things on without hesitation. With his gorgeous wife in his arms, her body tight around him, her breath hot and quick on his cheek, Harry’s reservations vanished. As Malfoy’s finger slid past the tight ring, Harry shifted, rocking his hips to adjust.

Ginny lifted up and rolled her hips. She was hardly moving. Harry felt a slow build of pressure as his arousal crept higher, inching him closer to the edge. Malfoy pushed in a second finger and Harry keened at the slight burn of being stretched. Ginny moved above him in a steady rhythm. It would be too much too soon. “Just two, Malfoy.” His throat was dry; he’d had too much or too little Champagne earlier. It was hard to talk and again he scratched out, louder, “I only need two.”

Malfoy said nothing, but the fingers disappeared. Harry stilled Ginny’s hips and waited. The heat of Malfoy’s waist teased Harry’s inner thighs then there it was: warm, so much warmer and softer at his entrance than any damn dildo. He clenched Ginny’s hips, trying to calm his breathing, relax his body and for Merlin’s sake not come the instant he was breached.

His eyes watered with the first push in; he hadn’t been stretched enough. It was his saving grace, pulling him back from the edge. He winced, feeling himself forced open, wider than his body was willing to go. Then the tip was in and Malfoy grunted, dragging in air like he couldn’t get enough. Malfoy’s head rested on Ginny’s shoulder, his hair matted with sweat and pressed to his forehead and cheek. He thrust forward again, slow and long.

Harry arched, mouth open, neck curling back as the sensation ripped through him. “Fuck. Malfoy. Fuck.” There would be finger-tip bruises on Ginny’s hips; he’d apologise later.

They stilled. The three of them, not moving, barely breathing for a dozen heartbeats until Harry finally couldn’t stand another second and writhed, not knowing whether to press back into Malfoy or up into Ginny.

“Potter,” Malfoy breathed.

And Ginny and Malfoy took over from there. Harry let them. Malfoy rocked his hips, gasping with every thrust, causing a flare of pleasure with each drag out and slow push back in; Ginny rode Harry fast and hard, up and down, on his cock.

Harry rolled his thumb over her clit, watching the rise and fall of her breasts, listening to the smack of flesh and harsh breaths behind her, and did everything he could to relax, enjoy and not fucking come.

Ginny shuddered, hands tight on the headboard and crying out that familiar broken gasp Harry knew so well. She collapsed a moment later, stilling his hand. “Too much,” she muttered and rolled off him, fumbling for the tissue box on shaky knees.

Malfoy had stopped. His face and chest were pink and glistening with sweat as knelt between Harry’s thighs, arms under Harry’s knees and hands on Harry’s hips. His eyes were bright, alive. And again, staring.

This time, though, there was no question what he wanted. “Well, go on then, Malfoy. Fuck me.”

Malfoy grinned wide and wolfish, then pulled out and slammed back in. He’d obviously been cautious before, not wanting to knock Ginny off or disturb her rhythm because now he was brutal. Harry’s hands flew to the headboard, pushing back with each thrust to avoid getting concussed. Malfoy was relentless, feral, fucking him in a way Ginny would never dare. He was going to be walking funny for the next week. At some point Ginny had settled in beside him, her fingers twisted his left nipple and her hand pumped his cock. Malfoy’s grip on Harry’s legs slipped and he lifted them again, changing the angle. Harry cried out at the next thrust and just like that his orgasm ripped through him, curling up from his toes, down from his finger tips, sudden and consuming and tearing a cry from his throat.

He registered, through the blur of his orgasm, Malfoy’s stilted rutting, the way he clung to Harry as he shuddered, the feel of warmth inside of him, then the more pronounced empty feeling of Malfoy’s cock slipping from his body. Harry shifted, let the pillow get moved from below his arse and had the strength to smile as Ginny cursed about her filthy pillow. He lifted his head enough to slide his own over to her.

They lay, the three of them, in bed for while. Long enough to catch their breaths and soak in the afterglow. Then Malfoy rose.

“You don’t –" Ginny began.

“Yes, I do.” Malfoy gave her a small smile and turned to dress.

Harry waited, knowing he had to say something, but each comment that came to him felt more pathetic than the last. Ginny was making eyes at him, poking him in the chest and not helping him think.

Malfoy was at the door, scarf already wrapped around his neck, when Harry blurted, “Turnabout is fair play and all that.”

Malfoy stared, gaze drifting from Harry to Ginny, lying naked and clinging to each other in the bed they’d shared for years. Behind his eyes was something Harry was only starting to understand.

“Next time, Malfoy.”

Malfoy nodded, his lip curling with a promise. The door remained open after he left.

~fin~  



	3. Better than the Best Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ginny’s bedroom looked identical to every other time Draco had been invited, with one notable absence.

It took half a glass of scotch before Draco finally asked, “Harry’s back from Thailand, then?”

Across the room, Ginny topped up her drink. She had her back to him, her body a sleek line of a silk fitted blouse and pencil skirt that hugged her arse beautifully. His palm itched to press a hand to the tempting swell of it. A drop of sherry splashed against the outside of her glass and she caught it with her finger. She cocked her head to give Draco an amused look.

“He’s around,” she said, and sucked the wet fingertip between her lips.

Draco’s nose twitched at the non-answer. It had been months since he’d been invited into the Potter house. They’d bought a new duvet since the last time he was here, Draco noted. It was chocolate brown and trimmed in gold and black. It set off the soft cream of the walls in Harry and Ginny’s bedroom rather nicely. Otherwise, the room was identical to every other time he’d been invited, with one notable absence.

Before Harry had left on his mission they’d fucked well into the night, the three of them, falling asleep at dawn in a tangle of sweat and come. The bruises and scratch marks had faded within the week, and every morning afterwards Draco had found himself eyeing the _Prophet_ for any details of the star Auror’s return home. But there had been nothing.

Ginny sat in the plush leather chair by the window, her short skirt hiking up her thigh as she crossed her legs. Draco’s eyes strayed to the fine freckles sprinkled above her knee, remembering when he’d dragged his teeth across them, making her cry out while Harry had filled her with four fingers. Ginny watched him rattle the ice cubes in his tumbler, a trace of a smirk on her lips. Her tongue would taste like sherry when they finally kissed, sweet and addictive.

Only one thing stopped him from tasting it now.

They’d never paired off, not in the last eighteen months or so they’d been doing this thing. Whatever _this_ was. The base of his spine prickled in warning. Even though today’s invitation had been written in Harry’s scrawl, it was unsettling that he wasn’t here.

Draco moved about the room, wasting a bit of time as he tried to suss out what was going on in Ginny’s pretty head. On Harry’s bedside table was an empty glass and a book, open and turned over to keep the page as if Harry had only stepped out of the room for a moment. The room was pristine, as always, each framed photo of the happy couple dust-free. Draco turned and stopped short. Half-visible from beneath the bed was an inside-out ugly grey sock that couldn’t possibly be Ginny’s.

He tossed back his drink, clearing his throat as he set the glass down on the dresser next to Harry and Ginny’s wedding photo. They smiled and waved at him.

He sat on the bed, his hand sliding over the cool, silky duvet, trying to quell the knot that was growing painfully fast behind his navel. “This is new,” he blurted out and winced at his own awkwardness.

“It’s been a long time.” Ginny smiled and crossed the room. She slid onto his lap, straddling him.

He let his eyes fall shut and inhaled the scent of her perfume. It never failed to get his cock thickening -- even when he was passing her by in Diagon Alley, stepping in as close as he dared just for the tease of it. He nuzzled her neck, sliding his hands over her bottom and pulling her as close as her skirt allowed.

“Harry’s been travelling,” she whispered, as if it might have slipped Draco’s mind. She tugged his tie free. If it were Harry, he’d fumble it and somehow make the knot tighten until Ginny rescued them both. Or Harry would use one of his charms, like magic came easier than the use of his fingers when he was undressing Draco. He captured her mouth in a kiss and moaned as she parted her lips and their tongues grazed, a sweet tease before she pulled back.

He eyed the open door, question on his lips as Ginny’s hands popped the buttons of his shirt with practiced speed. He kissed her neck and debated leaving a mark. The uncertainty of it was making him insane. Things with Harry and Ginny had always been done with a clear set of rules, even if they were mostly unspoken; it was one of reasons why it worked. He tried to give himself space to think but Ginny was squirming in his lap, making his thoughts foggy.

“His mission was only supposed to be a couple of weeks, but it took two months.” Ginny slipped his shirt off Draco’s shoulders, then nipped at the exposed skin. “He came home completely exhausted.”

A wave of dizziness passed over Draco like he was balanced on the edge of a cliff. Something in this wasn’t making sense, but Ginny gave him no time to think, grabbing his wrists and pinning him to the bed. Her skirt bunched up her thigh as she sat astride his waist.

“What do you like to do, Draco,” she said, rolling her hips, “when you’re so exhausted you can barely move, but are strung tight from too many days on edge?”

He tried to twist out from Ginny’s reach, no longer able to breathe. If she was coming to him because Harry was tired, did Harry even know? It was a line he wouldn’t cross, not when things had been working out, he’d thought.

“Draco.” She said his name like a light reprimand. She’d stopped moving, her face no longer teasing, but asking to be understood. “What do you want most to unwind after a long, stressful trip when you aren’t fit yet for company?”

Draco thought for a moment, taking a deep breath to clear his head. Harry was tired. Of course he was. International Portkeys and the time changes always made Draco jittery when he travelled. His shoulders ached at the memory of his last trip. When he’d arrived home, all he’d wanted to do was spend the night with a good bottle of wine and the best porn he could find. It was all he could ask for to sit with his hand on his dick, and no expectations around him. He’d even turned down Harry’s owl. He’d just wanted to let himself be entertained, he’d told Harry later. Harry had nodded in understanding. But what did that have to do with...

“Oh.”

_He’s around._

Draco looked around the room. He couldn’t see anything, but then he laughed to himself because Harry Potter was such an arse. He should have guessed. Draco flipped Ginny onto her back and made a good show of kissing her. He moaned into her mouth, sucking in her bottom lip until she gasped and her legs fell open around his waist. Let the bastard be entertained.

“When did he get back?”

Ginny’s eyes twinkled with amusement at his understanding. “A few hours ago,” she said, a little breathless. Her hips tilted and her skirt rose further until he could feel the heat between her legs pressing at his crotch.

Holding Ginny’s wrist in one hand, he plucked the buttons of her blouse until he could get his mouth on the swell of her breast. He sucked in her nipple, the lace of her bra rough against his tongue. She arched beautifully beneath him, moaning for Harry’s benefit as much as his own.

“Ginny.” He kissed the name into her shoulder, nothing more than a rumble of sound.

They stripped each other, slower than usual, each piece of clothing peeling away and tossed aside with a dramatic flair. They were well suited for this; he and Ginny enjoyed being appreciated, watched. He wondered if Harry had considered that when picking the night’s festivities.

Naked, Ginny stretched out on bed, a glorious expanse of pale skin and freckles. Draco peppered kissed along her side, teasing licks across her ribcage and below the swell of her breasts.

He worked his way up to her neck, and finally made the mark he’d debated earlier. His cock grazed the soft curls of her mound and he shivered. “What did you have in mind tonight, Mrs. Potter?”

She reached up, grabbing something beneath one of the huge decorative pillows. She held up a familiar pink sparkly dildo, and said, “By request.”

Draco snorted. He’d seen it in use, naturally. It was Harry’s favourite toy, and both Draco and Ginny had fucked him with it on occasion. It was average length and width; other than being ridiculous in its colour and the Dazzle Charm, it was completely ordinary, but Harry loved it. Draco didn’t. Dildos were hard and unyielding, cold and just never quite _right_. And while he shared a bed with both Ginny and Harry, he had never had a desire to stick anything in his arse that didn’t belong to either of them.

“And what _exactly_ was the request?”

Ginny bit her lip, a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. “Something we’ve never done.” Ginny fished the harness out of the drawer. Her eyebrow lifted just enough to make it an unspoken question.

He looked around the room again, trying to catch a shadow out of place or hear shuffling of feet. He could feel eyes on him, but there was no hint to where those eyes were coming from. It was unnerving -- and thrilling, to be the focus of someone’s intimate gaze when Draco couldn’t see him.

“Draco?”

He brought his attention back to Ginny, remembering the point.

“I --” He looked down at the dildo, his agreement catching in his throat.

With a shimmer of fabric, Harry appeared. He was sitting where Ginny had been, the leather chair by the window. He was unshaven, his hair a mess. His clothes were rumpled and the circles under his eyes spoke volumes of how little sleep he’d managed in Thailand.

His stare, dark and intense, sent a shiver down Draco’s spine.

“You heard her, Malfoy. It’s my request.” The words were thick with exhaustion, but no less commanding.

Draco’s cheeks warmed, his body lighting up like a fire cracker at the tone. And suddenly the hard plastic was a lot more inviting. This wasn’t about being watched, or him trying to get off on a dildo. It was about putting on a show -- a show to make Harry come undone without Draco ever even laying a hand on him.

He reached out and took the harness from Ginny’s hand, slid the dildo into place and offered it back to her. With a nod, she wriggled into it and snapped the leather closed at her hip.

Together, they oiled the fake cock, kissing and slicking each other’s hand and wrists until the mess of oil made them clumsy. Draco cupped Ginny’s right beast, massaging the oil over her chest until her nipples hardened into slick peaks. He mouthed over it, skin on skin this time, grazing the point with his teeth until she writhed. The plastic cock knocked his thigh and he looked down at it, oddly nervous. Ginny’s hand closed around the shaft and started stroking. Her eyes fell shut and Draco remembered the harness had a small egg-shaped piece that rubbed right over Ginny’s clit when the dildo shifted.

He’d once seen her get off just by stroking the dildo. He and Harry had sat together, silent and amazed through the entire scene. He wondered if Harry felt that same way now, awed at the sight of his wife about to fuck another man at his request. He couldn’t see Harry anymore, the chair was just out of his line of sight, but still he wondered: was his zip down? Was his hand down his pants, or was he waiting as Draco would, trying to last through the scene?

“Turn over,” Ginny said, her eyes flashing with heat and her voice low. _Fuck_. When she wanted to Ginny Potter could bring a man to his knees with two words.

Draco turned, arse in the air and face buried in a pillow before he thought twice. The room was warm, the fireplace lit despite it being June. Still, his skin prickled with goosebumps as Ginny moved off the bed to find the lube that had fallen at some point, leaving him alone and exposed. From across the room he heard the click of a zipper lowering. He forced himself still, and turned to watch Ginny as she flipped the cap and slicked her fingers again.

She prepared him slowly, starting with one gentle finger, sinking in and exploring like she was cataloguing every twitch, every sound Draco made as she fingered him. Draco _knew_ he was on display. It was different from any other time they’d had together. Usually they were each distracted, one way or another, but tonight two sets of eyes were focused on Ginny’s finger pushing in, and then on the second, stretching him open. The back of Draco’s neck prickled at the scrutiny; his cock ached beneath him, unabashed.

“Enough,” he said when he couldn’t take anymore.

He craned his neck to watch as Ginny wiped her hand on some discarded clothing and moved in behind him. She looked stunning with her small waist and her pert arse framed beautifully in leather straps, the thick pink cock jutting proudly between her legs. From over her shoulder, he could see Harry lit by the moonlight streaming through the window, his hand cupping the bulge in his boxers.

Ginny leaned over, pressing her breasts to his back and whispered into his hair, “Hold a post.”

Draco blinked for a second before catching her meaning, then shuffled to the corner of the bed and wrapped his fingers high on the post by Harry’s bedside table.

He felt Ginny moving into place and he clutched the post tighter.

“First time?” she asked, and he didn’t bother to answer. The plastic was wet but cool at his entrance, and he spread his knees further.

She pressed in with a quick, sharp thrust of her hips like he’d seen her do to Harry more than once. The head spread him wide, stealing his breath as he clenched down and found no give. Sweat broke out at the base of his spine. She inched forward and he willed himself calm. He loved this part best when watching, seeing Harry’s hole stretched to its limit, glistening wet with lube and Harry’s mouth falling open as his body adjusted.

Draco leaned his shoulder against the post and the cock slid in easily, angle perfect. Merlin, she knew what she was doing. How many times had she done this for Harry? Just like this, against this post. He’d tell her just how he liked it because that’s how Harry was in bed, open and uncomplicated, with just enough hero-ego to pull it all off. And Ginny would meet him step for step in anything.

She pulled out a little and thrust back in until he could feel the cool leather harness against his arse. He trembled, his fingers slippery on the post from sweat and oil. He didn’t know why this was different than being fucked by Harry. All he knew was that his stomach twisted, like that first time when he’d waited in the hotel room for them to arrive and was sure they’d kick him out. He cleared his throat, trying to hide the vulnerability he was feeling.

“You fuck your husband like this, Mrs Potter?” he asked, breathless. “Does his arse look this pretty swallowing your cock?”

She laughed, breathy and deep, and gripped his hips tighter. They felt nothing like Harry’s; he looked down to see her dainty, manicured nails biting half moons above his hipbone. “If you look close on that post, you might see scratch marks.” Then she pulled out and rocked back in, sliding perfectly over his prostate and making his comeback slip from his mind.

“Am I getting it right?” she asked, coy. A dark chuckle echoed from the shadows, just out of sight. Ginny tilted her hips just so and Draco saw stars.

“Fuck.” He gritted his teeth to hide his moan.

Draco couldn’t see Harry any longer, but he’d bet a small fortune that he had one hand over his mouth to muffle his amusement and the other on his dick, because there was no question the picture Draco and Ginny made together was brilliant.

Arching his back, Draco impaled himself deeper and Ginny moaned. Interesting. He did it again and yeah. The pretty little _uh_ she gasped was answer enough that the angle was just right for her too. And just like that the balance of control shifted and settled into something a bit more give and take.

They set a steady rhythm, slower than he usually fucked, drawn out and patient the way Ginny preferred. They were in no hurry, letting the tension build and wane, only to build it again higher. Her forehead rested against his nape, and her hair clung to his back as she panted into each thrust.

At one point, Ginny came, he was sure. She cried out, her teeth closing on his shoulder blade in a delicious stab of pain, but she kept fucking him through it, riding the waves and working for the next crescendo.

Knowing that Harry was watching them and getting off made what the two of them were doing that much more intense. His world collapsed to the way Ginny played his body like she rode her Firebolt, manipulating it to her will, and to the prickly heat of Harry’s eyes dragging over their bodies. Draco focused on the angle at which the dildo hit his prostate and what it would finally take to send him over. He whimpered into his forearm as she slowed yet again.

“Can you come like this?”

His hands weren’t free. They were too slippery on the post and she was rocking into him too hard not to hold tight with both. “No.”

“I think you can,” she said, rutting hard against his arse.

“Can’t,” he gasped, frustration making his voice crack. “Ginny.”

“Harry wants to see you come without a hand on your cock,” she said, her voice like velvet in his ear. “You know he does.”

He heard the quiet slap of flesh on the other side of the room, but couldn’t look.

She increased her rhythm. Her back had to be sore, her thighs burning but she kept steady, whimpering through the ache of her over-stimulated clit. She had to be as desperate as Draco was for him to tip over the edge.

“Oh fuck,” Harry cried out, his voice raw. The sound twisted around Draco’s balls, sending him over.

It built low in his belly, a spiralling heat that coursed through his body until he was swearing and clamping down on that damn plastic dick that had no give, no forgiveness. He bent his head and watched as his dick spurted come on the post, hit the bedside table and the side of the water glass. It dribbled down his own leg and onto Harry’s pillow. He shivered, wrecked. Ginny pulled out slowly, wrapping her arms around him, holding him through the aftershocks.

She tugged his arms until he let go of the post and they tumbled together to the bed. He turned, kissing her damp hair, and whispering filthy things into her ear about her endless talents.

Ginny laughed, kissing the tip of his nose the way Harry always did to her. She was gorgeous like this, flushed and bright eyed, a purple love bite blooming on her neck. She stripped off the harness and dropped it to the floor, pulling the covers around them both with a contented sigh.

He’d just closed his eyes, his body still tingly from his orgasm, when a warm body slipped in behind him. He shivered.

A gentle scratch of stubble at his nape was followed by a kiss and a whispered, _thank you_. He could smell Harry’s favourite whiskey on his breath, and beneath that a faint trace of come left over from a too-quick Cleaning Charm.

“Enjoy the show?”

Harry pressed his soft cock against Draco’s bare arse. “How could I not?”

Draco turned to catch Harry’s lips in a kiss. It was slow and sleepy, but deep enough to be filled with promise. Harry and Ginny’s fingers intertwined at his hip.

He grinned and whispered, “Welcome back.”

 

~fin  


**Author's Note:**

> [link to lj post](http://hp-kinkfest.livejournal.com/6336.html)


End file.
